


Domesticity

by Zilchtastic



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-04
Updated: 2011-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-19 00:26:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zilchtastic/pseuds/Zilchtastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2D is hungry and no one wants to do the washing up. That's it, really.</p><p>A <i>Demon Days</i>-era bit of fluff and silliness written as a sort of toe-dip into this fandom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domesticity

_There has to be something to eat in here_ , 2D thought as he rummaged sort of desperately through the fridge. _Can't even remember the last time I ate anything. Is it always this bare?_ He stared hard at the shelves, scanning them for anything that might be close to edible.

He pulled back a stray Tupperware lid. "Eugh... What _was_ this?"

Noodle, at the kitchen table, didn't look up from her Gameboy. "Curry, I think."

"Was it green curry or yellow curry?"

"Yellow, I think. Why?"

"'Coz it's green _now_." He closed the lid and pushed it to the back of the fridge distastefully. "Maybe I could _make_ somethin'."

"You will probably need dishes," Noodle said, helpfully. The Gameboy pinged and toodled, and her feet swung back and forth, bare toes just brushing against the floor.

"Dishes, dishes..." 2D winced at the veritable mountain of dishes stacked in, around, and even _under_ the sink. "Hey! Whose turn is it to do the washing up?"

"Murdoc's."

"Yeah, Murdoc's," Russel muttered, offering a sort of drive-by comment as he lumbered past the kitchen and down the hall.

"It is _not_ Murdoc's turn." Murdoc himself appeared in the doorway, scowling. "I'll have you know I just _did_ the washing up a good... seven, eight weeks ago. Can't be my turn."

2D squinted at a rectangle of pinkish paper tacked to the fridge. "But the chore chart says--"

"Bugger the chore chart! Who bought that thing, anyway?"

" _You_ did."

"Oh, right, right." Murdoc pulled it loose and magnets clattered to the floor like cheap plastic hail. He peered at it intently. "This can't be right. I'm sure I did the washing up in April or May or something."

"It's September now," 2D pointed out.

The chore chart flew across the room, flapping like a very bad paper airplane and falling just short of the rubbish bin to curl despondently on the grimy floor. Murdoc let out a growl of irritation, either at his own bad aim or at the nerve of the chore chart to actually be _right_. "What d'you need dishes for anyway, dolt? Just order a pizza, or Chinese from that take-away place."

2D scratched the side of his head, thoughtfully. "Don't think they'll send any more deliveries our way, not after the last delivery boy was... well, torn to shreds. Bad way to go, innit?"

"I did warn him to run," Murdoc said. "Is it _my_ fault that pizza places only employ soft, slow-moving targets these days? Practically zombie-fodder, they are. Ah well. At least I didn't tip him." He shook his head at the memory and then crossed his arms. "Fine then, what's your grand idea that we need 'clean dishes' for?"

2D hunched his shoulders, suddenly embarrassed. "I thought I'd, y'know. Make summfink, like," he told Murdoc in a very small voice.

"Who're you then, Betty Crocker?" Murdoc glared at him. "I'm not letting you _near_ the stove. This isn't Special Needs Home Ec. We've already called the fire department twice this week." He leaned in close, jabbing 2D in the chest with one finger. "Do you remember what they said last time they were here?"

"'Sod off, wankers'?"

"That's right. I'm not having you burn this place down around our ears, faceache, so hands off the stove."

2D gave Noodle a sort of imploring look, as if to say _reason with this monster for me_. Noodle sighed and set the Gameboy down. It gave one last forlorn tweedle before the screen went dark. She squared her shoulders in the way of a warrior preparing to face battle.

" _You_." Her finger jabbed in Murdoc's direction with almost palpable force. "Dishes."

"Now see _here_ \--" Murdoc started indignantly, but she ignored him.

" _You_ ," the finger swung around to stab at 2D, "refrigerator. Tell me what we have!"

"Um..." 2D obediently slid over and pried open the fridge door again. "Not much here... The yellow-now-green curry... Bit of sausage... Ham sandwich, half eaten... a finger... Leftover rice from the take-away we had day before yesterday... a shoelace... Or issat a tapeworm?" He held it up to the dim refrigerator light. "Anybody missin' a shoelace? Or a tapeworm?"

The faucet turned on behind him. Apparently Murdoc had thought better of trying to weasel out of the washing up after all, or maybe he was just hungry enough to want to eat whatever somebody made and he figured dishes were his ticket to a free meal.

"What else?" Noodle asked, sounding brisk and no-nonsense.

2D bent lower, practically crawling into the fridge as he examined the shelves. "Bag of celery that's all brown at the tips... Onions that are growin' new onions... Cheese, or _prob'ly_ cheese, anyway... Oh, and a dozen eggs."

"Are they fresh?"

The expiry date seemed to imply that they had another three days, max, before the whole dozen went bad. Noodle _hmm_ ed and stroked her chin. Impossible to see her eyes behind the thick curtain of her fringe, but her posture was like a general's as he stood before his troops.

"Here is what we are going to do..."

 

***

 

"That ended quite well, if I do say so," 2D remarked, pleased, as he cleared the last of the rice and egg off his plate.

"As if you even _did_ anything," Murdoc sneered, but he was sitting back in his chair in front of an empty plate too, patting his stomach contentedly.

"Fancy putting _rice_ in an omelet," 2D went on, oblivious.

Noodle set her plate in the now relatively clean sink. "In Japan, it's called _omurice_ ," she explained, turning on the faucet to rinse away the last few rice grains sticking to the plate. "It didn't turn out too badly, I suppose."

Murdoc slid lower in his chair, stretching out his legs tiredly. "Don't expect me to wash up the mess you made," he warned. "I'm done for the day. Wouldn't touch another dish if you paid me to."

"Of course," Noodle said, a little _too_ solicitously. Murdoc gave her a suspicious look from under his fringe, but she only smiled at him. "I'm sure 2D will be glad to help me clean up."

"I don't mind," 2D said. Even with all the bowls and cutting boards and frying pans he'd managed to dirty while trying to help out, they still had fewer dishes piled on the counter than they'd started out with.

"Right." Murdoc yawned. "Well then, I've got lots of important... _things_ to take care of. Anyone who bothers me is getting tossed out the nearest convenient window." He started to rise. "Ta."

The water burbled in the sink. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Noodle asked.

"What?" Murdoc's expression went from 'grouchy' to 'vaguely hunted'. Noodle was still smiling, showing an awful lot of teeth.

"It's laundry day. I do believe your name was next on the list, wasn't it?"

2D started to snicker. Murdoc just put his head on the table and groaned.


End file.
